


Midnight Plane to Georgia

by vega_voices



Series: Come Rain, Come Shine [42]
Category: Murphy Brown (TV)
Genre: F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 06:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vega_voices/pseuds/vega_voices
Summary: “This is the life of a reporter, Peter.” Anna’s voice was compassionate but firm. “Everyone is going to be there. We need you there too.”





	Midnight Plane to Georgia

**Title** : Midnight Plane to Georgia  
**Author:** vegawriters  
**Fandom:** Murphy Brown  
**Series** : Come Rain, Come Shine  
**Pairing:** Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt  
**Rating:** T  
**Timeframe:** Early 8th season  
**A/N:** So, I feel like I should apologize now. If you are like me and want to just smash Peter and Murphy’s heads together after reading this, just remember you aren’t alone and the fic after this (spoiler alert) gets things back on track.  
**Disclaimer:** I don’t make any money from this, I swear. I’ve made some new friends though. And had a lot of really in depth conversations about Jake, Jerry, and Peter and the narratives they uphold and the ones we should try to subvert. Also, Google is kind of worried about me and my reproductive health. Just sayin.

 **Summary:** _“This is the life of a reporter, Peter.” Anna’s voice was compassionate but firm. “Everyone is going to be there. We need you there too.”_

By the time he made it back to the editing booth, Peter had gone from sad to confused to pissed. Whatever had just happened between him and Murphy didn’t make a damn bit of sense, and he knew that she was just hiding behind her walls - commitment was scary for her, they still hadn’t talked about the miscarriage … but it didn’t mean he’d had to just walk away.

God. He needed to get back. It was better to be there and be pissed than let her settle in to her fear and confusion. It really would fall apart otherwise and he’d be damned if this fell apart. She would have to tell him, word for word, that she wanted him out of her life. No. This was stupid. This was fear. Editing could wait.

Storming back to his office, Peter grabbed his coat and turned to find Anna standing in the doorway, a look on her face that finally pushed him over the edge. “No,” he said, his voice shaking. “No, Anna. I can’t. I’ve moved my wedding around enough and right now, if I get on a plane, everything is over. Murphy and I might have split up tonight over this. When I took Now and Tomorrow it was so I could be closer to her and Avery and … no. Just don’t do this to me.”

“There’s a coup in Georgia.”

“Send. Seth.” He moved to push past her. She stopped him.

“This is the life of a reporter, Peter.” Anna’s voice was compassionate but firm. “Everyone is going to be there. We need you there too.”

Peter stared at her. “I have a marriage to go save, Anna.”

“The marriage can wait.”

The tone of her voice told him this wasn’t negotiable. He was getting on that plane. Peter blinked back tears. “When is the flight?”

“We’ve got you on the next flight to London, which is in about an hour. So get moving. You can catch up on the plane.” She handed him a thick folder. “Get moving.”

“I need to …” he stared at the phone on his desk. He had to call at least. He had to tell her. He had to … do something. But Anna wouldn’t budge from the doorway. He tucked the folder into his backpack. “Car downstairs?”

“Cab is ready and waiting. Good luck.” She put her hand on his arm as he moved past her. “Call her on the way. She’ll understand.”

No, he wanted to say. She wouldn’t. This time it was different. Because it wasn’t about the wedding dates. It was about the fact that they couldn’t even sit down for three seconds to make decisions together and it was starting to feel like this was the crash and burn they’d warned each other about. But Peter just nodded and headed down to the cab.

His cell phone was dead, so calling was out of the question until he had time to charge it and by the time he made it through security, the flight was boarding. It was okay. He’d call from the plane.

The plane didn’t have phones.

Really, if the universe wanted to kick him some more, it could go right ahead. By the time he was able to call her, she would be settled. Her decision would be made. Fucking hell. Was it too late to ask the pilot to turn around?

***

Finally Avery curled up in his bed and Murphy made her way back to the living room. It was two AM and she wasn’t sleeping any time soon.

What the hell had happened here tonight?

She’d gone to Peter’s bachelor party and actually come home feeling pretty secure in the idea that there wasn’t any one way to tell when you were supposed to be with someone forever. Everyone’s stories were different, and even the guilt she’d heaped on some of them hadn’t really changed her mind that much.

Somehow, she’d answered the door feeling confident - if concerned about schedules - in her upcoming marriage and over the course of a conversation, everything seemed to have imploded. God. It was 2 AM. Peter should be home by now.

She reached for the phone and dialed, but after the third time it went to voicemail, she just figured he was pissed at her. She was pissed at her. What the hell had happened? Had she really just thrown a two year relationship out the window and not even realized what she’d done?

“Peter?” She finally spoke to the answering machine. “Please call me back.”

Anxious and unable to focus, Murphy flipped on the TV and ended up in the most boring documentary ever on Vaudeville. But it was background noise and she curled into the couch, praying for sleep that just refused to come.

Nine hours later, Avery finger painted in the kitchen and Murphy was trying to microwave some soup for lunch without destroying the kitchen. She’d barely slept, and Avery was definitely feeding off of her emotional state, which wasn’t good. When the phone rang, she grabbed for it, knowing instinctively it was Peter and still surprised when she heard his voice.

“Hey …”

“Where the hell have you been?” Murphy hissed. Avery looked up at her and frowned and she took a breath and weighed the risks of leaving a four year old alone with finger paints in her white kitchen against screaming at Peter in front of him.

Paint would come off with a good scrubbing.

She stormed through the dining room and into the living room, clutching the phone so tightly she was sure it was going to snap. “Is there a reason you didn’t answer your phone all night?”

“Look. I …”

She paced, knowing full well Avery was going to come looking for her and suddenly, she understood some of the fears her mother must have had when things first started going south with her father. How did she protect Avery from this turmoil? All he knew was that Daddy wasn’t here this morning. She didn’t want him to see her upset.

“What?”

“I’m in London,” Peter said.

Murphy almost dropped the phone. “What? What? You got drunk and got on a plane to London, right?”

“I got back to the network last night and Anna was waiting for me.”

“And you didn’t have time to call?”

She heard the weight in his silence and decades of experience in listening told her he did feel guilty.

“I didn’t make time.”

She appreciated the honesty.

“Why are you in London?”

“There’s an uprising in Georgia. This is a layover.”

Suddenly deflated, Murphy sank to the couch, resting her head in her hand. “I guess it’s been a joke to think we could actually schedule this wedding.”

“It sounded last night like you wanted to call it all off.”

“I don’t know what I want right now.”

She did know. She wanted him home, with his arms around her, planning a damn wedding. She wanted him home, with his arms around her, reassuring her that it wasn’t her fault she’d lost the baby. She wanted to look into his eyes and not be crushed by the guilt she saw reflected there. She wanted to be rushing head first into a wedding they should give themselves months to plan because she wanted to say I Do before she started showing. She wanted to laugh while people counted the months. She wanted to tell Miles she needed to cut back because she needed to stay off her feet. She wanted Avery to be excited about his baby sister. She wanted to go back three weeks, before the blood had pooled between her thighs and her doctor had said there was no evidence of the baby. Had it only been three weeks?

She wanted to feel normal again.

“I do know that I’m really pissed you’re on your way to Georgia,” she finally said, breaking the tense silence that had settled on the phone line. “If Anna had called last night, got you here and not at the office, would you still be on that plane?”

“What if Miles had called you about it?”

She stared at her hands. “Actually,” she relented, “I’m surprised he didn’t. I wonder if he called Frank.”

“He should have called you. We could have gotten married on the plane.”

She almost laughed. Almost. “Peter … last night when you left, you said when you proposed, you meant it. Has that changed?”

“No,” his response was almost too fast. But she appreciated that he didn’t hesitate. “What about you?”

She sighed. “I …”

“Murphy?”

“I want to marry you,” she admitted. “But … god, I don’t want to have this conversation with you catching a plane.” She didn’t want to have the conversation at all. “But now it sounds like we can’t even meet this latest date and Peter, I am so tired of pushing everything around.”

“We don’t have to. We can do something wonderful. We don’t have to rush now.”

She knew he hadn’t intended to slice right through her with a scalpel, but he did. “Then why does it matter anyway?”

“You know what, Murphy?” Peter sighed. “You’re right. We can’t have this conversation when they’re about to call my flight number. I’m sorry. And I should have stayed last night.”

That helped. Slightly. “Okay.” She wiped her eyes. “Look, I’m going to cancel everything. When you get home, we’ll talk about the next step.”

“Okay.” He paused. She could hear the distant intoning of the gate. “I love you, Murphy.”

“I love you too.”

“Kiss Avery for me.”

“I will.”

She hung up before he could say goodbye. Before she could. Right now, everything felt so damn final.

***

In all their years of marriage, Jim had never seen this exact expression on his wife’s face. She stood in the kitchen, a mixed bag of horror and terror and pain on her face. Why the hell was she so shocked?

“Murphy and Peter called off the wedding? And you’re here? Tonight? Having celebrated … what?” She set the plates down on the table. “Let me get this straight, Jim. Corky and Miles fly off to the Cayman Islands and get married on a whim of a drunken idea and you are all at Phil’s celebrating while your best friend, a woman you literally took to Betty Ford, a woman whose life you saved … was she there?”

“Of course Murphy was there she …” he sighed. “Doris, what is wrong with you? This is Murphy Brown. How often have we joked about how she’d never find someone to settle down with?”

“Where have you been the last two years, Jim? She did find someone! Someone she loved! She was getting married! And now she isn’t? Tell me you were at least sympathetic when she told you.”

His eyes widened. Where was this coming from? “Doris, it was hardly a surprise. This is --”

“Yes, yes. This is Murphy.” Her eyes flashed anger at him. “Murphy. A woman whose sole long term relationship to this point involved a marriage that lasted five days and some fling with a Kennedy Cousin that still doesn’t make sense. But she and Peter were together for two years. Did it ever occur to you that the woman might be in love? That she might be hurting? And you were at a party celebrating - celebrating! The nuptials of two nitwits who ran off on a whim?” She inhaled. “Jim Dial, I have never been more disappointed in you.”

The words stung and he took a step back, away from Doris’ anger. He knew she and Murphy had been spending more time together than usual lately, but he’d assumed it was for wedding planning. He’d assumed she’d known about the wedding being called off.

“Are they still together?” Doris challenged.

“I …”

“You didn’t ask. You didn’t ask your best friend, the mother of your Godchild, if she was still together with the man she has been seeing for two years. If she was all right. If she needed someone to drive her home so she didn’t …” Her eyes filled with years. “Jim Dial, I am ashamed of you.”

“Murphy said she was fine,” Jim tried to defend himself, but each blow Doris landed only opened his eyes to how insensitive he’d been over the last two years. Had anyone taken her relationship with Peter seriously? Had he?

“Did you ask if she needed a ride home?”

No. He hadn’t. He’d asked Miles for a ride because they were going the same way. He’d left Murphy walking, but Frank had been with her. He was almost sure of it.

“I’m calling her,” Doris snapped. She stormed to the doorway and turned back, her hand gripping the doorway so tightly her knuckles were white. “Jim, she was getting married. To a man she loved. And you shrugged her off. Tell me,” she shook her head. “How did you react when you found out she wasn’t pregnant in Florida?”

His eyes widened. “I barely knew what was happening that day! Most of that exchange happened when I was out of the room! I …”

“Did you go to her? Did you ask how she felt?”

Why did he feel there was something he was missing?

“Or were you just relieved that it was yet another ‘women’s issue’ you didn’t need to think about?”

“Doris …” he pleaded.

“I’m calling her. And if she needs me, I’m going over there tonight.” Doris moved into the living room, and he listened as she picked up the phone. “I might go over anyway.” A long pause. “I can’t believe you. I just can’t believe you’d do this to her. Like she’s nothing more than just another girl in the office.” He realized his wife was crying. That she wasn’t speaking to him any more, but instead to herself, muttering angrily. He stood still, listening. “Murphy, honey. Hi. I just heard. Why didn’t you call me?”

Silence. Long silence. Longer than he expected.

“I’ll be there in about half an hour. No, it’s no trouble. I’m happy to.” Silence again. “Then I turn around and come back, but I’m coming over to check on you. Don’t worry. I know it’s late.” Silence. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The phone clicked and he girded up his loins and walked into the parlor. Doris turned to him, her eyes still flashing rage. “Don’t wait up for me,” she ordered. “I suspect I’ll be there the night.”

“Doris …” he tried again. “Murphy said she was fine.”

She turned on him. “The love of her life just walked out the door, breaking hers and her son’s heart. I don’t know the details, but I’m going to get them. And I suspect I know the reason why. You have become lazy in your relationship with her, Jim. Tell me, if she’d have called that night, the night you realized it was rehab or death, and told you she was fine, would you have believed her?”

“Of course not.”

“So why do you now?”

The question was like a knife through the ribs. “I …”

“You have tonight to come up with an answer.” Doris went to the door and gathered her purse. “I will see you tomorrow night. Good night, Dear.”

Jim just stared after her after the door closed. What did Doris know? And had he really been so lazy? Had he just been waiting for Murphy’s relationship with Peter to fall apart so he didn’t take it seriously? Was it so hard to believe that his little slugger was so incapable of finding love?

Slowly, he sank to the couch. Murphy had looked pale. She’d been withdrawn. He’d chalked it up to the wedding nerves, but no, Doris was right.

There was something about Murphy he recognized. A change in posture, a forced nature to her smile. A change he’d seen once in Doris, about fifteen years ago.

His heart shattered.

No. Slugger. No.

***

They stared at each other across the threshold of the door. Two weeks in Georgia suddenly felt like a lifetime. After an eternity, she stepped back, and he reached out for her before she was out of his range again. Much to his surprise, her arms went around his neck and he just clung to her, wrapping her body in his arms. If she’d allow it, he’d never let go. What the hell were they doing?

“Murphy …?” Was that his voice choked with tears? Had they really broken up last night?

She didn’t say anything. She just buried her head in his neck and he didn’t make a move. God help him, he wasn’t breaking this spell. Well, he wasn’t, but Avery was.

“Peter!” The little boy tore down the steps, oblivious to their pain, and Peter dropped to his knees and wrapped him close. “Hey, buddy,” he choked out. God. He wasn’t just losing Murphy. He was losing this. “How’s my guy?”

“Am goin to the park with Reena! You come!”

Peter grinned and secured Avery’s hat on his head. “You do that. I gotta talk to your mom, but maybe I’ll see you later, okay?”

Avery pouted but nodded. Reena, wisely, shuffled him out the door. “We’ll take our time,” she said over her shoulder. Peter was grateful.

Murphy had moved away, out of his reach again. Peter followed, at a loss for words. “Murphy?”

“We called off the wedding …” her voice was thick. “We … we have to accept that we just aren’t right for each other, Peter.”

Terror gripped him and he came up behind her. “I love you.”

She wiped her eyes and he put his hands on her hips, pleading silently for her to turn around. If he could just get past the wall she’d built since the miscarriage, they could make this work. “I love you too,” she whispered.

Slowly, he moved his arms around her waist, reveling in how she felt against him. They’d barely touched since she lost the baby but she let him pull her back against his body, didn’t pull away when his hands moved up her torso. “I don’t want this to end, Murphy.”

“We couldn’t even figure out getting married, Peter … how can we figure out a life together?”

He wanted to fight with her. He wanted to scream and tell her that they were doing just fine until the miscarriage but she was walling herself off baby and it made him think she didn’t want to even bother but if she loved him then why was this happening? He was sad and he was pissed and he was confused. Nothing made sense.

“We still can. And we don’t have to rush now, Murphy. We were rushing …”

“Because of the baby. A baby that …” she pulled away and faced him and his heart broke all over again. “Peter …”

Peter took a deep breath and tried to put his thoughts in order. “I proposed when you said you weren’t pregnant,” he lifted his defenses before she could put this on him. “I want to be with you no matter what, Murphy. And now we don’t need to rush. Now we can make it absolutely perfect. Harpists and all.” He stepped toward her again. “Please don’t push me out the door.”

“If we can’t get through this …”

“Murphy,” he took a breath. “This is the hardest damn thing to get through. We lost a child. One we both wanted. But we don’t have to let it end us.” Please, he pleaded silently, don’t do this. Just stop.

“You deserve better,” she murmured, staring at her shoes. “I saw how happy you were. You deserve someone who …”

He was about to lose his mind. “Murphy, what does it take to convince you that Avery is as much mine as …” he took another breath, praying for strength. “You being pregnant was amazing and it hurts we lost the baby--”

“I lost the baby, Peter.” She raised her head. “I lost the baby. I did too much. You deserve better.”

“Don’t you think I should have a say in what I deserve?”

She stared at him. He stared back. “I just don’t know if I can handle it right now. I look at you and all I see is you being so happy about the baby.”

“So why can’t we mourn together? Murphy, you aren’t the only one hurting here.”

“But you have other chances, Peter! I don’t! God, I didn’t even want another baby but I wanted one with you and now …” Her knees buckled slightly and he reached out to grab her and pull her back against him. He felt her push away, felt her trying to keep him away, but he couldn’t let go, and the longer he held her, the tighter her hands fisted in his shirt.

“Did you really expect me to leave you, Murphy?” The question he’d been fighting with since she lost the baby finally emerged.

She pulled back. “What?”

“Isn’t that what this is about? You figured no matter what, I was going to leave you. If you were pregnant, I would take off. And if you weren’t, I’d wise up and realize I deserved better. Come on, Murphy. What do you take me for?”

“I …”

Peter rubbed his eyes. Logic told him to stop this train. Shut the hell up, kiss her, and see if he could salvage this. But the question at the edge of his worries wouldn’t leave him alone and the more he thought about it, the more pissed off he was. “You’ve been waiting for me to go.”

“Peter …”

“I have spent two years trying to prove to you that I’m not Jake. I’m not Jerry. I love you. I love Avery.” He took a really deep breath, but it didn’t stop his temper. He was pissed. He was so tired of having to prove to her that he wasn’t one of them. “And I will remind you again that when you told me you were pregnant, I didn’t take off and I also didn’t magically forget about the other child who was sleeping down the hall. I didn’t leave, Murphy. I didn’t run away. I don’t want to have a kid with any other woman. And if you weren’t so busy pushing me away, you’d realize that.”

Her eyes flashed. It was nice to see some emotion behind them again, but her answer only made him angrier. “You got on a plane to Georgia and you didn’t even call.”

“You would have done the same and you know it. Stop blaming the job, Murphy. Stop blaming the baby. Stop blaming Jake and Jerry. What the hell are you so scared of?” He reminded himself to breathe, consciously told his hands to unclench. What the hell would it take?

“You wanted to push back the wedding,” she fired at him.

“We were getting married so quickly for your sake! You didn’t want to fight the network again! God, Murphy! What the hell are we doing here? Why is this so hard for you to get?”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing!” He threw up his hands. “Everything. I don’t fucking know.” He winced. He didn’t usually swear around her. Not like that, anyway. Another breath. Another. He moved behind her again and slipped his hands around her, pulling her back against him. When in doubt, touch her. It always worked in the past.

She didn’t pull away and he pressed his lips to her neck, sliding his hands up under her shirt, grabbing her breasts in his hands, rolling her nipples between her fingers. He wasn’t gentle. Wasn’t tender. Wasn’t trying to do anything other than claim her again, remind her he didn’t just love her but wanted her. The more he worked her body, the more he needed her responses to him, to plunge his fingers into her, to feel her move under him.

He wasn’t proud of this, but she wasn’t pulling away. She wasn’t encouraging him either.

A barely there logical part of his brain stopped him and he turned her in his arms, looking into her indigo eyes. “What is it?”

Her hands pushed at his arms and she moved to the couch, sitting down. Peter joined her. “I know you aren’t Jake,” Murphy said, her tone thin and tight. “And I know it isn’t fair, but I was okay until …”

“Until he showed up again.” Peter cringed at how tense his voice was. “Until he reminded me of everything I can have.”

“Well … yes.”

He wanted to punch the wall. Instead, he grabbed her and pushed her under him, his knee pressing between her legs, his body pinning her in place. “You are all I want,” he growled. “And I don’t know what it’s going to take for you to understand that.”

He moved to kiss her but stopped. Somewhere behind her eyes, she was frozen. Terrified. His hands were holding her down, his knee pressing against her, and for just a second, just long enough for it to register, she was connected to something he’d never wanted to ever bring out in her.

“Fuck …” Peter jolted back, his hands between them. “Murphy, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” She sat up, staring at him, smoothing her shirt down. “What just … what?”

He stared at her, vulnerable and scared, and he jumped off the couch, backing away. He’d almost hurt her. His rage had pushed him to almost forcing her. He’d all but assaulted her right there on the couch where they’d made love countless times.

“I have to go …” he fumbled. “I’m sorry, Murphy. I’m so sorry.”

Peter took a breath and fled, knowing she was confused, but worried more for his own state of mind. What would have happened if he hadn’t stopped himself?

***

She woke to rain. Hard, driving rain. Avery was asleep next to her, sucking his thumb, his hand gripping her stuffed cow. Murphy pulled out of bed and moved to the window seat, the depression and realization of last night settling in.

What the hell had happened?

Yes, she’d been scared when he grabbed her. It was so out of character for him. But she also trusted him. She knew he’d never hurt her. But he’d just taken off before they could talk and he hadn’t answered the phone.

Why had it felt like she’d yet again let someone walk out of her life and because it was easier to hide than fight, she just let it happen. If she called him today, would he answer? Would he come back and try to work it out? Work what out? They just weren’t ready to get married, right? Two years dating, a year of engagement, they should be ready to be married, right?

What was stopping her? What was stopping them?

Her fingers traced the raindrops. She was okay. She had Avery and her work. She didn’t need a man in her life who understood her better than she understood herself. Who wanted to hold her hand whenever they were close. Who laughed at her dumb jokes and taunted her to just do better. She didn’t need a man who never once treated Avery as anything other than his own, and in fact was a better father than the man who donated the DNA. She didn’t need someone who rubbed her shoulders when she was tired or who knew just when to order takeout. She didn’t need …

Peter.

Her eyes welled with tears and she let out a ragged breath, trying to find her center again. Why had it felt so final when he’d run out.

Thunder rolled lightly. Avery mumbled in his sleep and rolled over before sitting up. He didn’t like thunderstorms. No matter how they tried to explain that he was okay, the loud noise just scared him. Once, as a tropical storm lashed DC, Peter had built a tent next to the fireplace and told stories and Murphy had watched a miracle as her son giggled away his fears. But this morning seemed to be a repeat of patterns and he crawled up next to her and copied her hand on the window.

“Mommy’s sad?” He asked, looking at her. She sighed.

“A little bit, baby.”

He moved into her lap and put his head on her arm. “Don’t be sad, Mommy. I’m here.”

Well, that did it. Tears she couldn’t stop flooded her cheeks and she gripped Avery to her harder than she should have. He squeaked and reached up, patting her cheeks. She rocked him, cradling him tightly. “Mommy?” He asked.

She needed to get herself under control. Avery didn’t need this. Slowly, she took a breath and wiped her face. “I’m okay,” she lied. “I’m okay. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Avery climbed even more into her lap. “Why don’t I take today off, hmmm? I’ll call your Uncle Miles and tell him I need a day off and we’ll make a blanket fort and watch movies and protect ourselves from the thunder?”

Avery giggled. “And Peter can come too?”

Yup. Bad idea. Tears started up again. “You know,” she sniffed. “Peter has to work today. His show is on tonight. So. Why don’t we plan to tell him all about it later, okay?” She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t break his heart. Not yet.

“Mommy?” Avery had a very sad look on his face. “Why are you sad?”

“Because, kiddo, sometimes, adults just get sad.” She couldn’t tell him the only father he’d ever known probably wasn’t coming back. God. How to explain that one? Hey, kid. So your biological father is an idiot and your real one was scared off by your mom. So. Let’s just let it be us, shall we? The tears started all over again and Murphy stood and picked Avery up. So today it’s just gonna be us, okay? Come on. Let’s go call your Uncle Miles.”

Avery nodded and burrowed into her, knowing instinctively that she wasn’t giving him the whole truth. He had that way, he knew adults better than he should for such a little boy. But he also seemed happy with the idea of just them today. She’d give Reena the day off and just celebrate the rain. Maybe when the sun finally came out, she’d feel better.

***

“I could kill him,” Doris said, sipping her tea. Murphy sat with her at the kitchen table, in her pj pants and a t-shirt Doris could tell belonged to Peter. “I’m so sorry, Murphy. This isn’t about my marital problems that wouldn’t even be marital problems if Jim would pay attention to things.”

“It’s better than thinking about mine,” Murphy sighed and pushed her tea away. “I’m just numb right now, I suppose.”

“How did you and Peter leave it?”

Murphy wiped her eyes. “I … don’t think we’d intended to actually break up. We tried to talk about things after we called off the wedding. But the other night we had this huge fight and he just ran out of here and I don’t know why.”

“What was the fight about?”

Murphy shifted and Doris raised an eyebrow. “I …”

“Murphy …?”

“I might have compared him to Jake.”

“Murphy!” Doris stood up, ready to shake some reason into her friend, but she couldn’t. Murphy looked so broken, and she couldn’t heap any more judgement - passive or not - on her. “Murphy, you know … he isn’t Jake. Not that Jake isn’t a good man, but … oh honey.”

“We aren’t twenty-two, Doris. He …”

“Don’t you dare say it. I thought we’d talked through all of this over the last month. He loves you - baby or no!” She paced the kitchen, looking for things to clean and finding nothing. Murphy’s new nanny was an immaculate housekeeper as well. Finally, she turned to her. “Murphy, you have to talk with him about it.”

“Why? He … I can’t do this. I can’t even think about getting pregnant again. I’m forty-eight years old and this time was a damn miracle and you didn’t see his face, Doris. You didn’t see his face. He was so damn excited …” tears caught in her throat. “Doris, he was so excited that he was going to be a father and I couldn’t give it to him. I can’t. And you can tell me about Avery all you want, and I know he loves him … but you didn’t see his face.”

Doris knew exactly that face. She had seen it on Jim more than once, how he’d buried his broken heart under a soft touch, unsure of how to comfort her without making her feel guilty. Women’s liberation be damned, the unwanted loss of a child was something that was almost impossible to bear.

“He was so excited, Doris …” she whispered. “And I ruined that excitement.”

“Honey,” Doris moved behind her and stroked back her hair, “honey you didn’t ruin anything.”

“No one cares, Doris … not even Frank. When I asked him if I was making the right decision about marrying Peter, he said yes. When I talked to him after we called off the wedding, he said it was the right choice. He’s telling me what he thinks I want to hear and I need him to be honest.”

“And what do you really want to hear?”

She felt Murphy’s shoulders shudder and bent to wrap her friend in a gentle hug. “I want his voice telling me we’ll figure this out. But he’s so angry, Doris. He’s so angry and the other day he ran out of here like he was on fire. And no one cares … no one cares … everyone has come around to supporting Miles and Corky but they’re still making jokes about wedding presents with me. No one cares …”

“Shhhhh,” Doris rocked her gently. “I know. I know.”

“How did …” she wiped her eyes and looked at her. Doris settled back in her chair. “How did you two deal with it?”

“Sometimes, not well,” Doris admitted as she poured them each a new cup of tea. “Jim, you know, is such a private man. But he … I know the look you mean, Murphy. The one of excitement that lets you know you’ve picked the right one.”

“Jake fled. Jake fled and Peter knelt in front of me and held me. And I compared them.” Murphy punched the air. “I compared them. What was I thinking?!”

“You weren’t. Murphy, you’re angry. Not at Peter, but at the world. And we only hurt the ones we love.” She sighed. “Do you think breaking everything off was a good idea?”

“No … yes. I don’t know. I just know that I can’t look at him right now. It hurts too much. He ... he proposed in the middle of a hurricane, Doris.”

“He proposed after you told him and a room full of people that you weren’t pregnant.” She took her friend’s hand in hers. “I think that says something.”

Murphy took a deep breath. “I know. I know. But it all just feels …”

“I know,” Doris squeezed her hand. “And I’m sorry that you’re wrapped up in this Corky and Miles nonsense.”

“Oh don’t get me started. Doris, they haven’t even had sex yet!”

Doris shook her head. “Isn’t that because Miles is gay?”

Murphy cracked up. “Thank you,” she said, finally reaching for her tea. “I think I needed that.”

“You definitely did.”

***

This conversation had been worked out in advance. Peter couldn’t just disappear on Avery. The kid was used to him going out of town on assignment, but as it was, with the place he and Murphy were in, Peter wasn’t sure how many phone calls there would be. So he’d come by to get his some of his things and talk to his son.

He’d asked Murphy for coffee the other day, scared still to be alone with her after the fight about Jake. Sitting at the little shop, holding her hand, it felt like nothing should have changed. But it had. She still couldn’t talk to him about the baby and he couldn’t look at her without seeing the terror in her eyes when he’d pinned her down on the couch. He really didn’t want to split up, but it would take time to rebuild the bridge. Still, when she’d walked into the coffee shop, she’d smiled at him, and for a second, everything felt fine. But then the reality of where they were settled on both of their shoulders. It didn’t have to be over, they’d decided. But right now they both needed to think about what they really wanted out of this relationship.

Now and Tomorrow was more than happy to send him on “safari” as his editor was calling it - embedding him with a group in the middle east for the next two months. Probably not his smartest move, but he needed to get out of the country for a while. Run from his feelings. Hell, he needed to run from hers. “We need space,” she’d said, staring into her cup of tea, their fingers linked over the table. Even in this space, he couldn’t not touch her. He’d only squeezed her hand tighter, still wondering how they’d ended up here. Still confused about how they’d gone from being ready to walk down the aisle to holding hands and praying they could stay together.

“Can I come say goodbye to Avery?” He’d croaked out. “It’s been a while since I’ve been gone for this amount of time.”

She let out a breath and nodded. “Yeah. I … he’s really confused, Peter. He knows I’m upset and you haven’t been around.”

“Okay. I … why don’t I come by on Wednesday night. You’ll be on the air so it won’t be awkward and …”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll tell Reena.”

They’d stared at each other and he found himself wondering why he just didn’t kiss her and apologize. Something had to be wrong, right? Something? This didn’t make any sense so something had to be wrong. Right? Why were they like this? His conscience nagged at him, telling him there was nothing wrong but ego and fear, but ego and fear were usually the reason relationships blew up. So he let it ride. They’d been destined for this anyway, right?

Now he was sitting on the stairs with Avery, his backpack stuffed with most of his things. Just in case she didn’t want him back again. He’d left a small box in Avery’s room, tucked in the dresser drawer. Inside was the well worn, familiar rosary that had traveled the globe with Peter. It had belonged to his grandfather, and had been gifted on his first day of Seminary, and had gone into every war zone and every prison and every toxic dump over the years. He’d left it with a note - When you’re ready, I’ll explain this to you. Until then, I just want it to keep you safe. On Murphy’s bed was a letter and his leather jacket.

“So I have to go away for a while,” Peter said, trying to keep his voice even.

“For work.” Avery nodded, playing with the stuffed lobster Peter had brought to soften the blow.

“Yeah. And this time, I’m going away for a long, long time. Like I used to do when your mom and I first got together. I won’t be able to call you as much, which is why I wanted to see you. I’m gonna miss you.” Peter blinked back a few tears. They’d decided to not try and explain the breakup. Partly because neither of them wanted to admit it was a breakup and partly because Murphy wanted to handle that if and when it came down to it. “I’m his mother,” she’d said. “Let me disappoint him.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Avery kicked his feet. “Eldin left too.”

Peter’s heart cracked wide open. “I know buddy.”

“It’s me and mommy and Reena.” The lobster was chucked down the stairs and came to a rest near the door.

“I know, buddy.” He pulled Avery into his lap. “But me and Eldin, we love you so much.” Avery just nodded and Peter pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Peter?” Avery was snuggled in against him, like he liked to do.

“Yeah?”

“Why is mommy so sad? Is it cause you’re leavin?”

Yeah, this was great for his emotional state right now.

“Yeah, bud. It’s cause I have to leave.” It was easier than explaining. And then his perceptive little son looked right into his eyes.

“Did you and mommy fight? Tommy’s mommy an’ daddy got into a fight an’ his daddy left.”

Peter sucked his teeth a bit. “Yeah, we did. But that’s not the only reason I have to go. I really do have to go work on a story.”

“You don’t love us anymore? Like my other daddy?”

“Oh, Avery.” He choked on the tears and gave him as much honesty as he could. “I love you more than anything. You and your mom. Your mom … she makes me feel so special. Like the sun is always rising. But adults get really messy sometimes. And right now, it’s just kind of messy and I gotta go on this trip. But your mom and I are going to try and clean it all up when I get home, okay?”

Avery nodded sagely. “Okay.”

Peter crushed him close, burying his nose in Avery’s hair. “I love you, kiddo. Don’t ever question that.” He took a breath. “I gotta go.”

Avery climbed off his lap and sat on the step. Peter ruffled his hair and walked to the door, nodding to Reena as she emerged from the kitchen. She gave a small wave and Peter just nodded and slipped outside, not even bothering to wipe away the tears.

***

She could barely remember the show, but she’d made it through it. It was getting easier, honestly. Peter was leaving for the middle east tonight. Not that she had his flight number memorized or had thought about racing off after her segment was done to intercept him at the airport. What good would that do? Really? That trick only worked in romantic comedies and there was nothing about this entire situation that was funny.

Sitting in the middle of her bed was a bundle of black orchids wrapped in wet paper and plastic, Peter’s favorite leather jacket, and a letter. Murphy toed off her heels and unbuttoned her suit jacket, the blue one, the one she’d been wearing when Peter kissed her for the first time. The scarf was different. She suspected he still had the one she’d been wearing that night.

Most of his things were gone. The Old Spice and his shaving cream, his razor, his toothbrush. The condoms, amusingly, were in the medicine cabinet, covered in dust.

His towel and washcloth were in the hamper, most of his clothes gone from the drawers. He’d left a glass rosary on her bedside table though. A promise to come back? Or just overlooked?

Well, Murphy, she muttered at herself as she washed her face and changed into her pj’s, you’ve done it now. Steeling herself, she settled on the bed and reached for the letter. Inside, there was a photo of the three of them, taken by Reena at Christmas. Tears touched her eyes as she opened the paper and started to read.

_Murphy,_

_It would be disingenuous for me to leave without one of these, right?_

_I don’t know what to do, or what to say. I keep going through my brain, trying to figure out where everything fell apart, and all I can think is that somewhere along the way, we put expectations over ourselves._

_So here’s the cold, hard truth, Murphy: I am in love with you. I love you. I want to be with you. I get butterflies when I look at you. When I hold you at night, the world makes sense. I love how you kiss me, I love how you challenge me, and I love that your favorite book is Fried Green Tomatoes. I love that your favorite color is blue._

_I am in love with you, and Avery is my son. I don’t care about Jake in this - Avery is mine as if I held your hand during delivery._

_I want us to work this out. The night of the bowling alley, the night when I found out about Octopussy, I realized just how far beyond “eventually crashing and burning” this had gone. Because I might not have known about you and Jerry Gold, but I knew how you never write down your first question for an interview, and how you keep one single cigarette in your office to challenge yourself not to smoke, and how your favorite time of day is right after the sun fades away and the stars are just starting to emerge. I knew how you never walked by the Lincoln Memorial without crying, and how much you truly care about Miles. I didn’t need your favorite color to fall in love with you, but that night, when we stayed up talking, I fell in love all over again, getting to know the woman who helped create the Women’s Studies program at Penn and who slept with Nick Brody._

_You’re right. We need space. We need to take a breath and really come to grips with what this means for us. Maybe we aren’t destined to last. Maybe we have too many expectations and hangups to just go it our own way. But … and bear with the former seminary student here …_

_Sometimes, even Christ walked in shadow. So don’t mind the rosary I left for you. Mine makes me feel better. I’m hoping it will help you too._

_We’re there right now, though. Stuck in a shadow that, if we just turn around, we’d see the sun. So I’m going to go do this. And I promise not to write letters - but I’m doing what you do. I’m keeping a journal. And you’re getting it back when we get back together. Because God, Murphy. I really want us to figure this out._

_There’s a gift for Avery too, in his dresser in his room. I’m hoping I’ll be the one to give it to him when he’s old enough. But just in case, it’s there for him._

_I love you. And I’ll see you in a few months._

_-Peter_

The tears fell as she read each and every word, but it wasn’t until she crumpled the page against her chest that the sobs began. Hard, wracking sobs that couldn’t be muffled, despite her grabbing a pillow to press to her face. Her knees pulled up against her chest, her body tensed, ready to run, and she screamed her fears into a void, terrified she’d wake the house.

Her body quaked, each sob pushing out past the prison she’d kept her emotions locked inside. No, she told everyone at work, she was fine. Tired, but fine. Really, this was working out for the best after all. Everyone was focused on Corky and Miles anyway. No one had expected her of all people to find lifelong happiness. She was Murphy Brown. Tough and independent and she didn’t need a man.

Yes, she did. She needed the one whose smell still lingered on his pillow and who had left his leather jacket on her bed. She needed the man who got up in the middle of the night with Avery and let her sleep, who knew enough to order takeout just from the look on her face, who had proposed to her after he found out she wasn’t pregnant but wanted to be with her anyway. The man who had seen past her fears on their first night together, challenging away her anxieties until she found her footing, and who had in fact taken her screaming to new heights over and over again.

Exhausted, she sank into her pillow, wiping away tears that just refused to stop falling.

Her body ached. Not just from crying but from holding herself together. From laughing at Corky and Miles in all of the expected moments. From giving Frank advice on his relationships with a straight face. She hurt from lifting Avery up to the tree branches so he’d laugh, and from holding her body so tightly that if someone touched her, she’d cut them. She was so tired, so broken, and so angry at herself because she’d done this. She’d pushed him away. She’d sent him out the door saying that she needed space when what she needed was just to take a breath and not put any of the pressures on them that society expected.

Why had she done it? Why had she gone and asked other people what made a good marriage? Why had she given in to the little voice in the back of her head that told her she needed to be something she wasn’t to be happy? Peter had only ever wanted her to be herself.

Her hand reached for the phone and she picked it up, hitting the speed dial button. His was the only one programmed in.

She had to stop him from getting on the plane.

But he didn’t answer.

She hung up and rolled over, wrapping her arms around his pillow, inhaling the scent that was starting to fade. If Betty Ford had taught her anything, it was to take it one minute at a time. He’d promised he was coming back. They’d start there.

Right?


End file.
